Turning point
by Narya Saetan
Summary: A life-threatening event causes Liz to admit her true feelings. Lizzington, of course. Sorry I suck at summaries.


**Author notes:**

First, English is NOT my native language and this work is unbeta'ed so sorry in advance for all the mistakes you'll find.

Second, this is my small contribution for the Lizzington fandom. A 'thank you', of sorts, to all the amazing writers that keep this ship sailing.

This is meant to be fluffy and fun. Entertaining. I hope I managed that, at least.

Enjoy and thanks for reading.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing, sadly.

**THIS IS RATED M FOR A REASON. **

…

Elizabeth's heart was pounding, hard and fast. She could feel droplets of sweat slowly running down her spine. She was nervous. Hell, she was _scared._ This was not the first life threatening situation she had had to face, not by a long shot. But it was always different when it was _he _who was in danger. The Anslo Garrick ordeal came to her mind and she had to forcefully push it aside. This was neither the time nor the place to dwell in those dark memories. Now was the time to try to figure just out how was she supposed to prevent the most recent number on Red's list, a man she knew only as 'Ghost' - and how she made fun of such an _original _code name - to pull the trigger of his 9mm that was currently pressed against Red's temple.

…

_2 hours before:_

Today was one of those days. Absolutely nothing was happening. The search for the new number on Red's list, a man known only as the 'Ghost', was going nowhere. Every new lead they followed ended, invariably, in a dead end. And to make matters worse, Red has been out of contact for the last 5 days At least when he was around the potential for something interesting to happen increased dramatically. Witch, Elizabeth Scott concede, was not necessarily a good thing. But still… This _void _was making her restless. If only Ressler was around they could brainstorm about the case or just talk to pass the time, but, taking advantage of the complete absence of new information, he took the day off. Lizzie was starting to regret bitterly not having done the same thing.

She let her head fall back and rest against the back of her desk chair and closed her eyes. She was sore, she was tired, she was frustrated… But that was not what was riling her nerves. If she wanted to be honest whit herself - and truth be told, she was not so sure she wanted that - the real problem was that she missed Raymond 'Red' Reddington. She worked better with him, despite his infuriating habit of withholding information. Or, perhaps, _because _of it. Instead of giving her everything he knew, he usually feed her bits and pieces, making her think outside the box, making her take intuitive leaps, forcing her to drop the rule book and use her own instincts to find the right answer. And she was a better agent because of that. A sharper agent.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when he stop being the obnoxious pain in the ass that she hated and became the obnoxious pain in the ass that she actually liked but here she was, almost falling asleep in her chair and thinking about Raymond Reddington and how much she wished he was here.

"You looked relaxed." A familiar voice said, scaring her so badly that she almost fell off the chair.

"What the hell Red?" She almost yelled, trying to bring her heart rate down to a more normal tempo.

"Well, hello to you too sweetheart." Red responded with a grin.

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, Reddington. Where the hell have you been?" Liz asked, rising from her chair.

Red turned serious, as he always did when she asked questions he wasn´t so keen on answering.

"I told you I had to leave for a few days to tend to my business, Lizzie." He answered quietly. Suddenly his face broke into a mischievous smirk. "Why? Did you miss me much? I'm gladdened Lizzie. Truly I am."

"Oh shut up, Red." She huffed, turning her back to him to hide her small smile. She did missed him and was glad he was back. Even if he did scared her half to death.

"The information you gave me about your informant was useless, Red." Liz said, facing him while crossing her arms across her chest. "We went and checked the warehouse where you said we would be able to find him but it was empty. It had signs that someone used to live there, food , clothes and the like, but whoever he was he was gone by the time we got there. We kept a team surveilling the place but so far we got nothing." She started to pace around the office, in part to stretch her legs, but also because Red's unwavering gaze and thorough attention on her every word was becoming more and more unsettling. As for why his gaze unnerved her was something she was most definitely not ready to consider. Although she could admit, at least to herself, that it was more an exciting sensation than an unnerving one.

"Anyway, we tried to talk to the neighbours to see if we could find out if a person matching the description you gave us lived there, or if someone knew the places he used to hang out, if he had any friends or family around, maybe a girlfriend, but they knew nothing. They are lying, of course, but there's nothing we can do about it." She faced him fully then and placed her hands on her hips. She frowned when she noticed his quirked eyebrow and cheeky grin.

"And you decided this was a good time to leave for 5 days to God's know where, leaving me with absolutely no means to contact you. 5 days Red. Cooper is livid and I'm the one taking all the heat."

While she was venting, and without really noticing it, she kept inching closer and closer to him, and speaking louder and louder. By the time her monologue ended she was nearly shouting and was standing so close that their noses were almost touching.

Red _– damn the man's nonchalance_ - only smiled wider, placed his hands on her shoulders and tilted his head.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie. I do so love your temper." He squeezed her shoulders gently, his voice dropped to a velvety purr. "It burns hot enough to scorch the unwary."

Lizzie was taken aback, as she always was when Red acted like this. She looked into his eyes and noticed the darkness in them. Unnerving. Exciting. She felt a bit lightheaded and noticed that she had stop breathing altogether.

"Can you please be serious for a moment, Red? This is important." She tried to sound severe but didn't quite manage. She was still to breathless for that.

"But I am serious Lizzie." His hands dropped from her shoulders to grab her upper arms, his thumbs moving in slow, circular motions across her skin. Caring and possessive. Filling her whole world. Pulling away from him was hard. Very hard.

It was overwhelming. _He _was overwhelming.

Red, perhaps sensing her discomfort, her conflict, opted to take a figuratively step back and steered them back to a somewhat safer topic.

"Lizzie, the information I provided was good. But informants are secretive people as I'm sure you are aware. You can't expect to find them if you barge in, with your sirens blaring and waving your guns to all and sundry. Finding this particular kind of people require finesse, something I'm absolutely sure you possess but the rest of this team is sorely lacking." He raised his hands, palms facing her, in contrition. "In retrospect I admit I should've anticipated this outcome and for that I am sorry."

Liz appreciated both the change of subject and the apology.

"Yeah, thanks." She conceded. "And I admit that we may have been… overzealous… in our approach to this situation."

Red laughed quietly at that and Liz felt the lingering tension between them dissipate.

"I'll tell you what, Lizzie. I'm fairly certain that I know just where to find our elusive friend. Why don't we grab the car, drive there and have a chat with him? We'll have the whereabouts of the 'Ghost' by diner time tonight, Lizzie. I guarantee."

"We better or Cooper will have both our hides." Liz grumbled.

…

It was probably the first time Liz saw Red drive.

When she saw him climb into the driver seat of his Mercedes she was so surprised she just stood there, gawking. Red, completely oblivious to her astonishment, took his seat, put on his seatbelt and smoothed down his blazer before realizing Liz was still standing outside.

"Coming?" He asked.

"Where is Dembe?"

"I gave him the rest of the day off. He worked very hard this last 5 days." Sensing her hesitance he added. "And for your information, Lizzie, know that I am an excellent driver. There is really no need to look so scared."

"I'm not scared." She huffed, dropping herself into the front seat. "I was just surprised. I'm not used to see you without Dembe around."

"Well, sweetheart, today is just the two of us. It's going to be a gas."

"Are you sure your informant is not dangerous? Perhaps I should call some backup."

"And risk him running away again? I think not." He started the car and drove on. "Beside, it'll take no time at all."

"Fine." Liz agreed, resting more comfortably in her seat. Red's driving was like every other thing about the man: smooth. After the first few minutes of wariness, Liz allowed herself to relax and enjoy the ride. He was actually a pretty good driver, and he looked like he was enjoying himself a well. They fell into a comfortable silence, and Lizzie was sorry to be the one end it but she had a job to do and needed information in order to do it.

"Where are we going, exactly?"

"To the suburbs. " Was the only reply she got.

"Can you be a bit more specific, Red?" She pressed.

"I was thinking we could have diner on our way back. I know the most wonderful Italian place. They have a Spaghetti alla Putanesca that is to die for, Lizzie." He said, instead.

"You are infuriating, you know?"

"Yes, I've been told." He shot her his most winning smile and added a wink for good measure. He laughed out loud when he caught her trying to hide her own smile.

"My, my, Lizzie. I believe I am starting to rub off on you."

"You wish, Reddigton." She shot back, lightly punching his upper arm

"Ouch. Aren't you aggressive today? I better give you some information before you decide to punish me some more. Not that I am adverse to a good punishment. Under the right circumstances it can be quite… pleasurable. But, alas, these circumstances are not the best." He paused and looked at her, still smiling. She felt her heart do a flip in her chest. _Oh God, I'm screwed. _She pushed these unhelpful thoughts of her mind by sheer willpower. Making a conscious effort to sound as normal as possible she looked Red in the eye, smiled sweetly and demanded:

"I'm still waiting, Red." She made herself hold his gaze and waited.

Liz watched, mesmerized, as Red smiled first faded, then disappeared altogether. It was hard to tell, because he was wearing his shades, but she could almost swear that he was looking at her with… trepidation. Or as close to trepidation as a man like Raymond Reddington could feel.

"Yes,…well… " He stammered. "It's …hmmm…. Rude, yes,…to keep a lady waiting…." He managed at last.

Liz heart was soaring. He _was_ flustered. It was a heady sensation to be able to make him flustered and an accomplishment, really, if you think that she herself was not all that in control of her own sentiments.

"Yes, it is. So…" She urged him on.

"Yes…Of course… "He cleared his throat, gave her one last glance and focus his attention on his driving once more. "My informant once told me that, if a situation should arise that forced him to, using his own colloquialism, 'lay low', I would be able to find him in a house in the suburbs that belong to his grandmother."

"His grandmother?" Liz asked, unconvinced.

He only nodded, still keeping his attention on the road. They were now approaching a residential area. The houses looked old and dilapidated and the tiny front gardens were teeming with weeds. Rusted lawn chairs and broken toys were scattered here and there. Not a single soul was in sight. Liz was starting to have an ominous feeling about this.

"Are you sure this is the right place, Red?"

"Yes, Lizzie. This is not the first time I visit this charming place."

He drove for a few hundred yards more and parked in front of the smallest house Liz as ever seen. It was freshly painted, with tiny flower beds and a front porch the size of a tea bag. It was, in one word, grandmotherly and was completely out of place, considering how the neighbouring houses looked.

"We're here." Red stated.

"So, what are we waiting for? Let's go." Liz grabbed the door handle but Red stopped her with a hand on her forearm.

"I have to ask you to stay in the car, Lizzie. I'll go alone."

"Like Hell, Red." She exploded, making a grab to the handle again. She felt Red's hand slide across her arm and circle around her wrist, his thumb snug against her pulse point. She paused and turned in her seat to look at him.

"I do not doubt you or your ability to protect yourself. I'm asking you to stay for two reasons, sweetheart." He took off his shades and started to rub small circles in the skin of her wrist. She felt some of her tension fade away. _Damn the man and his soothing touch. _"First, it will be easier and faster if I show up alone. The man knows and trusts me, and I'm certain he is still very skittish about strangers. And second, and this is very important, I need you to be able to escape if something go wrong."

"What could go wrong, Red? Is there something you're not telling me?" The ominous feeling was coming back, stronger than ever.

"I'm not expecting anything to go wrong. But it's always best to be cautious." He paused, letting her assimilate what he was trying to say. "Will you do this for me, Lizzie?"

She didn't like this. Not one bit. But it did make some sense so she decided to trust his judgment.

"Ok, Red. I'll wait in the car…." He nodded, smiled at her and turned to exit the car, but this time it was her hand to stop him. "…On one condition." She waited for him to turn and face her before stating her terms. "If you're not back in 5 minutes I'm going in. And that is final."

"That's more than reasonable, Lizzie. 5 minutes." He conceded.

"4 minutes and 45 seconds. The clock is ticking, Red."

He laughed softly at that and with a final nod, exited the car and headed to the house.

…

Liz watched him enter the house without knocking. It would appear that between criminals some social niceties were not requested.

She tried to relax and wait patiently but she just couldn't seem to do it. She was on edge, the feeling that something was wrong refused to leave her. And to make matters worse, it was getting harder and harder to deny the fact that she was attracted to Raymond Reddington. It was all kinds of wrong. But it was the truth, nonetheless. And she was torn, and confused, and scared… God, what a mess.

But now was time to focus on the most immediate problem. The first 3 minutes were up and still no sign of Red. She could see no movement from within the house, which was not at all surprising since the curtains were drawn. To give her hands something to do, she unbuckled her seatbelt, reached for her Glock, checked the safety and the magazine. All was good. Next she fished her cell-phone from her pocket and checked the battery. Full.

Suddenly, she heard an unmistakable sound coming from the house Red entered 4 minutes before: a gunshot. She was halfway to the front door before she even realized she was moving, still holding the cell-phone in her hand. She typed a text message asking for backup, pocketed her phone and picked up her gun instead. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins; all her senses were on high alert. _Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay. _The need to rush in and find Red was almost too much to resist, but that was not the way to proceed. Instead, she opened the door, just an inch and looked in, gun pointed straight ahead. It looked like the door opened to a small hallway. She could see an opening to her right, a living room, perhaps, and a staircase leading to the first floor. To her left, blocked from her view by the door, came the sound of voices. There was no way to know if there was anyone else in the house. Her training stated that she should wait for the backup to arrive. But Red was in there, hurt, perhaps, or even, God forbid, dead. She couldn't wait, she _wouldn't _wait. Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door and took a cautious peek to her left, gun raised. Nothing. That division looked like a library of sorts. She could see bookshelves and an armchair. The voices sounded clearer, now that she was inside, and she almost passed out in relief when she heard the unmistakable timbre of Red's voice. _Thank God. _She could hear the voice of another man, and a low moaning. It was safe to assume that someone was hurt. Liz took a cautious step toward the sound of the voices and stopped, listening. Surprise was her best weapon and she planned on using it. She took another step, moving very slowly, but when she put her foot down, the wooden board creaked loudly. She cringed. _So much for the surprise effect. _The voices stopped abruptly and then someone called out:

"How's there?" Someone shouted from the room. "You have 5 second to show yourself."

Liz had no other choice. She moved forward, slowly, still with her gun raised, pointing ahead. No use in showing weakness. The surprise was out. Now she needed to buy time and keep them alive.

She entered the room and tried to assess the situation. It did not look good. A man, unknown, was lying on the floor, unconscious. Blood was seeping from a bullet wound in his tight but it didn't look live threatening. If the bullet had severed the femoral artery the blood pool would be significantly bigger. And there was Red, a muscular forearm across his throat and a 9mm pressed against his temple. He looked calm and even managed a sad smile when he saw her.

"Hold it right there missy and drop that gun." The man holding Red barked at her.

"That's not going to happen. My name is Elizabeth Scott and I'm with the FBI. Drop your weapon and let Mr. Reddington go." She tried to sound calm and in control. The man only laughed at her.

They were standing in opposite sides of the division. Liz noticed that the man's back was facing a door that lead to another division. That was a huge risk that man was taking and Liz wasn't sure if it was overconfidence or blatant ignorance. That was not good at all. An ignorant opponent was a dangerous one. Unpredictable. Erratic.

"I thought we had an agreement, sweetheart. You were supposed to leave." Red said.

"And miss the chance to save your bacon? No way, Reddington. You're stuck with me."

He smiled at that.

"May I introduce you this very fine gentleman that his currently pointing a gun to my head? Lizzie, this is the man known as 'Ghost'. Apparently he was the one to found us."

"Apparently he was." _This man was 'Ghost'? _Red must have sensed her confusion and added:

"He is not a high number but he is an important one. We can get to a lot of people through him. Bring down a whole criminal organization."

"Shut up, Reddington or will put a bullet through your brain." The 'Ghost' shouted, pressing the muzzle of the gun harder against Red's temple, making him flinch. "And you, miss FBI, will get out of the way and let us leave."

"I'm not going to do that. Reinforcements are already on the way. Drop your gun and I'll personally vouch that you co-operated."

"Oh yeah?" The 'Ghost' sneered. "And what if I don't?"

"Well, if you don't I'll put a bullet through _your_ brain." Donald Ressler voice said, from behind the two men. "It's the same to me, really."

…..

The 'Ghost' was controlled and handcuffed in a matter of minutes. The feeling of the cold steel of Ressler's gun against his head was persuasion enough, after all.

"Thanks for saving our asses, Ressler." Liz said, clapping him in the shoulder. "Your timing was excellent."

"Just thank your lucky stars I was nearby, Scott." He huffed a laughed. "And thank the idiocy of that joker over there." He added, looking at the 'Ghost'. "Giving his back to an open door. Amateur."

"And that is exactly why he is such an important number." Red interjected, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Liz. "Important enough to now the ins-and-outs of the organization but stupid enough to blab about it to anyone to hear."

"He was smart enough to capture you, Reddington." Ressler noted, acidly.

"Yes, well. I admit was a bit overoptimistic on my approach."

"'A bit overoptimistic'?" Liz grumbled. "You had a gun pointing at your head and you call that being 'a bit overoptimistic.'?"

Red only stared at her and tilted his head to the side, smiling.

"You are impossible." Liz concluded, shaking her head.

"So I've been told." He replied quietly, still smiling.

"Anyway, exactly how _did_ you end up in that mess?" Ressler asked, trying to ignore the playful banter between Elizabeth Scott and Raymond Reddington. He thought their relationship was one of the strangest things he had ever witnessed. They were just so… intense, with all the staring and bickering, gravitating toward one another whenever they were in the same room. It was plain disturbing, in Donald Ressler modest opinion.

"Apparently the prize for my head reached a new level. Enough money to make the risk of trying to capture me worthwhile." Red answered Ressler question without taking his eyes off Lizzie. "'Ghost' knew about the reward and knew my informant hiding place. The rest was just plain coincidence. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Red sounded so at ease, as if being in mortal danger was something normal, expected even, and taking in consideration his line of work, _their _line of work, it _was _normal, it _was_ expected. Still, Liz felt on the verge of tears. Because something has changed. Liz understood then that she was not willing to waste any more time. This was the moment that tipped the scales. It didn't hit her like a bolt of lightning, it didn't crash on her like a wave, it didn't rock the very foundations of her world. Realising that she has fallen in love with Raymond Reddington didn't come as a shock. It didn't surprised or disgusted her. It was as if she knew it all along, as if that elusive piece of the puzzle that was her feelings for him finally clicked into place. And it felt _wonderful. _

She felt a bit dizzy; the sheer relief of finally knowing what – _who_ – she really wanted was extreme. Red, always in tune with her mood, sensed something and gently garbed her elbow, studying her face with mild concern.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice a low, deep rumble. She loved his voice.

"I'm more that fine." She replied, with sincerity.

"Hmmm. You need some rest. I'm taking you home." And with a quick word with Ressler, who seemed to had everything under control, and a nod to his informant, who was currently being patched up, he turned them to leave, placing a warm hand on her lower back.

_Home…oh yes, please! _If she had her way she would not spend another night without having Raymond Reddington in her bed.

…..

The car ride back was quiet but not uncomfortably so. Liz could sense Red's concern for her and she thought it was quite endearing. He would glance at her, from time to time, trying to gauge her state of mind. More than once she saw him open his mouth as if to speak, but the silence went on, undisturbed.

She wanted to dance, she wanted to shout, she wanted to make love to Raymond Reddington, over and over and over again. The thought send a wave of arousal rushing through her and she rubbed her tights together, craving some friction. She caught Red staring at her, watched his Adam's apple bob, saw how white his knuckles were from gripping the steering wheel so forcefully. He was, at last, realizing exactly what was different in her. He swallowed hard, before asking:

"What is it that you need, Lizzie?" she never heard his voice sounding so rough, so husky.

"I want you to take me home…Raymond." It was the first time she used his given name, and she let it fall off her tongue, savouring it. His reaction was strong, ardent, and all she could do was drink in the sight of him: slacked jawed, nostrils flaring like those of an animal catching a scent, eyes wide and dark, shallow breathing.

"Lizzie…" He whispered, and seemed unable to say anything more. Only watched her, an hungry, predatory stare that left her trembling and burning and wishing they were home already.

The rest of the trip passed in a blur, both focused intently on the road ahead of them. The atmosphere was charged, electric. Liz could almost taste the sexual tension in the air. She wanted to look at him but refrain from doing it. If she looked at him now she wouldn't be able to stop herself from touching him. And once she started to touch, she wouldn't be able to stop. So she folded her hands neatly on her lap and waited.

Never the sight of her apartment building was more welcome. Red managed to found a parking space right in from of it and Liz thanked their stroke of luck. She made to grab the door handle but Red placed his hand on her knee, urging her to stay put. He exited the car, walked around it and opened the door for her. She smiled, and accepted his outstretched hand. He helped her out and they walked, hand in hand, to her door.

Liz felt no doubt, no nervousness. Only excitement and a complete confidence that this was right. This was meant to be.

She opened the door and pushed Red in, by the hand. She smiled when he kicked the door close, his excitement as plain as hers. She leaded and he followed. She knew that her will was paramount to him.

The only time he showed some hesitation was when he saw she was leading them to her bedroom.

"Lizzie…" He stopped, unsure how to proceed. He looked down, to their joined hands, and then brought them up, placing a tender kiss on her knuckles. The sensation of his lips on her skin was indescribable. "I never wanted anyone as I want you." He paused again, and she took a small step toward him, their bodies almost touching. His other hand went up to rest on the swell of her hip and she placed a soothing palm on his forearm. "I don't want this to be a one-time thing, sweetheart."

"I told you you were stuck with me and I meant it." She replied and it was all the reassurance he needed.

Next thing she knew, she was being kissed, deeply. His arms went around her waist and she laced hers around his neck. Kissing him was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was passionate and tender, dominance and submission, new and familiar all at the same time.

They moved together, still kissing, into her bedroom. They only stopped when the need for oxygen was too much to bear. Liz felt him kiss along her jaw, down to her neck, lips and teeth working together, making her moan in pleasure. She grabbed on to his shoulders for dear life and tilted her head back to give him better access. She heard him murmur sweet nothings against the skin of her collarbone. She never felt pleasure like this before, raw and all-consuming, almost too much to bear. She pushed on his shoulders until he looked in her eyes. He was breathless, flushed and much too dressed for her liking.

She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed in and out. She could feel his heart beating hard and fast against her palm. She pushed his jacket of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. The sight of him, on her bedroom, in his shirtsleeves, ignited in her the need to see more, to see all. She wanted to touch his naked skin.

Apparently his need was the same as hers because, next thing she knew, they were taking each other clothes, with more urgency than grace, until they stood there, facing each other, winded, and down to their underwear.

He reached out to her, cautiously. She felt his fingertips press against her collarbone, then slide down, slowly, until they reached the edge of her bra. He paused, waiting for her permission. She arched her back, giving herself to his touch. He touched her, delicately, reverently.

"Perfect, Lizzie." She heard him whisper. "Simply perfect." She felt the sting of unshed tears burn in her eyes.

His touched grew stronger, bolder. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra and heard his breath catch in his throat. He stepped closer and tipped his head to capture a nipple in his mouth. He licked and nipped until she was trembling with need. Her body was on fire, she needed to feel him, she couldn't wait anymore.

Pushing his head back to hers, Liz captured his mouth in a burning kiss. His taste was inebriating and she knew she would never get enough of it. Her hand travelled lower, from his chest to his stomach, until she touched his hardness. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead on her shoulder, gasping in pleasure. She smiled against his skin.

"I want you, Raymond." She whispered in his ear. "I need you."

His head shot up, his eyes wild with passion and he nodded, once. She sat on her bed and scooted back, until she was standing right in the middle of it. He followed her, with no hesitation, and placed himself between her legs. She could feel how aroused he was, how hot he felt against her sensitive flesh. He kissed her, again and again, and rocked his hips, creating a wonderful friction that brought her close to the edge. She was moaning his name, scrapping her nails across his back. She was _so_ close….

"Raymond, stop." She urged and, immediately, he pulled all the way back, standing in his knees between her legs.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready to do, love. How fast or how slow we go is always your choice."

She knew he was speaking the truth and she loved him for it.

"I want you… so much it hurts." She flushed at how needy she sounded but she was too far gone to care. "I just need to feel you inside me."

He swallowed and grabbed the hem of her panties, pulling them slowly down her legs.

"You are so wet, my love. So ready for me."

She watched, entranced, as he hook his thumbs on the waistband of his satin boxer shorts and dragged them down his legs. She licked her lips, more aroused than ever. He was _very_ well endowed.

She just couldn't wait anymore. As he was crawling on top of her she pushed against his shoulder and flipped him on his back. She straddled his hips, hand flat on his stomach.

And he just stared at her, awe-struck, like she was a dream come true, or a goddess than deigned to grace her most loyal worshiper. He stared at her as if he loved her and her heart swell so much she feared it might burst. .

She raised herself on her knees and slide down his length, painfully slow. She felt him tremble uncontrollably under her. He was using his not inconsiderable willpower to remain still, to surrender himself to her every need. It was an intoxicating feeling, to have Raymond Reddington at your mercy, willingly yielding absolute control to her.

She rocked her hips, leisurely, learning his body, gauging his reaction, savouring every second. He gasped and twitched. He groaned and swore. And he let her do with him as she pleased.

She took her time, delaying her orgasm, simply relishing in the amazing sensation of having him sliding inside of her, rock hard and searing hot. Her nails scratched his chest, teasing his nipples. His hands seemed to be everywhere: caressing her breasts, stroking her tights, sliding along her rib cage.

Her climax was fast approaching, she could feel her inner muscles starting quiver. The trembling of her legs muscles was so bad that she was having a hard time keeping her rhythm.

Without warning, Red flipped them over still cradled between her thighs.

"Allow me, my love." He growled, nipping the junction between neck and shoulder.

"Oh, yes, please." She moaned, surrendering control to him.

He thrusted, slow and deep, making her whimper with pleasure. His breathing was turning harsh and ragged. They were both close to climax.

"I never dared to hope." _Thrust "_Not even in my wildest dreams."_ Thrust. "_You are perfect…_" Thrust. "_My perfect Lizzie…_" Thrust. Thrust ." _My Lizzie…"_ Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. _"Mine…."

Liz's climax hit her hard. Red's body moving on her, his words, growled on her ear, his passion, his love… It was all too much. They came together, as one. Rocking erratically against one another, grabbing onto each other, as close as two separate human beings could get. Liz gave herself to Red, then, heart, body and soul and in return accepted him, all of him, joyously. She was his, yes, but he was also hers and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Red flipped then again so Liz could rest on top of him. Somehow he managed to remain safely buried inside, trying to prolong their connection for as long as he possibly could.

Liz laced her hands and placed the flat on his chest, feeling his chest hair scratch against her palms. She rested her chin on them and looked at Red's blissful expression.

"Hey." She whispered, beaming at him.

"Hey yourself." He rumbled, placing his hands possessively on her hips. His thumbs were tracing soothing circles on her skin.

Liz knew that they needed to talk. A relationship between an FBI agent and The Concierge of Crime was not going to be well received, not by a long shot. But right now, they were beyond words.

"I love you, Lizzie." Red said, and Liz could see the truth shine in his eyes.

_Well, perhaps not all words were redundant_, she thought, as she leaned in to kiss the man she loved.


End file.
